


Fetish

by delusaedisillusa



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Cuckolding, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-11 23:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7911250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delusaedisillusa/pseuds/delusaedisillusa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robert loved Lyanna<br/>Robert loved to hunt, to drink to fuck.<br/>He hunted everything; it didn’t matter as long as he could kill. Killing helped him clear his mind.<br/>He drank everything as long as it was alcohol, it helped him to forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fetish

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow I've managed to delete this story. I really don't know how.

Fetish

Robert loved Lyanna  
Robert loved to hunt, to drink to fuck.  
He hunted everything; it didn’t matter as long as he could kill. Killing helped him clear his mind.  
He drank everything as long as it was alcohol, it helped him to forget.  
He didn’t have a particular woman he liked, anyone who wasn’t Lyanna wasn’t the “right one”, and any woman with a cunt was accepted. It helped him to live on.  
Sometimes he asked himself, would she have been happy with him?  
Did she love her dragon?  
Did he start a war for a woman who didn’t want him? Lord Stark, Brandon and so many, many more … did they die because he couldn’t accept a refusal?  
He didn’t have an answer, everything made him thirsty. Ale, wine, hunting and whores, he didn’t need more.  
Lyanna wasn’t here. He killed the dragon (her dragon?) every night in his dream. That didn’t help.

He married her because Jon said he had to.  
She was beautiful, golden and clearly not a maid.  
He could always tell if a woman was a virgin, how much fucking she got, how good she was.  
This was his gift.  
He could tell his lovely bride did enjoy a good fuck just before marrying him.  
What would he have seen if he had to see Lyanna one more time?  
He laughed. Did it matter? She wasn’t Lyanna and he liked whores. He never thought he would marry one, but again, he thought he would marry Lyanna.  
What to do with the Lannister whore?  
Well Jon said he had to marry her.  
So he put his clock on her, drank and smiled at her, she smiled back; he could tell she wanted him, she wanted to be queen.  
Lyanna wouldn’t have wanted to be queen, but she wasn’t a Lannister whore.  
He fucked her, calling the only name that felt right and got from his whore-queen a glance that could have be killed him.  
A glace it sobers him up. The fight weren’t finished. The fiend was in his bed.   
Maybe she would have been an even better kingsslayer than her brother.  
This was interesting.  
Hunting. Drinking. Whoring.  
Hurting her  
A new hobby.  
He easily found out who her lover was, pretty fast really, he rocked with laugher; incest between lions twin. Lord Lannister would be so proud!  
But the little Lannister whore was entertaining, cold as ice with hate flaming in her eyes. She was the only woman he acknowledged beside his lost love.  
He didn’t want a woman to love, he couldn’t love any woman, and the Lannisters “family plays” were beautiful. Sometimes they would fuck, but when they have time, when he gave her time – Woman I’m hunting- they would make love. Tenderly, loving, worshipping. He couldn’t stop to spies on them. Sometimes he begged her to go hunting with him, he would have loved to hunt some game and to see them fucking in the woods.  
He liked to think that their perfect golden bodies belonged to him and Lyanna.   
The twin made love as replacement for him and her; he only wished their hair weren’t this fair. Gold not silver, thanks the Gods.  
She bore him a bastard, the first of three; he was hunting killing everything he could, thinking: NOW.  
Now he had to have their golden heads on spikes.  
He had to.  
How could a Baratheon fall so low? He was a cuckold, he enjoyed this debauchery, but he couldn’t allow that a bastard lion would be king. The next king would be a Baratheon…  
But why?  
Once the twins and the bastard were gone he would have to marry again. He couldn’t have trueborn children when Lyanna, his true wife the only one he would always love, weren’t the mother.  
He didn’t gave a damn about being King, about Stannis or Renly about politics and everything.  
He had his hobby.  
He gave her a death stag as thanks for horning him; she gave him a midget version of her brother.  
“A lion cub!?” he asked  
She smiled, he could smell her fear, nodding.  
He laughed  
This was interesting


End file.
